Bittersweet
by catlover5040
Summary: Strange how we never appreciate what we have until it's gone. An angsty little Christmas gift for my fellow Lassiet fans. (Oh, don't look at me like that, I have a fluffy Christmas fic coming soon.) This is LASSIET, so don't read if you don't like.


"Merry Christmas, Carlton."

Juliet plugged the string of lights in at the power outlet beside the chair she'd been in, it seemed, her whole life. The room lit up and she looked around at the other decorations. Paper snowflakes on the walls, red and green garlands, a small tree in the corner. She'd needed something to do with all her free time.

It was hard, sometimes, committing her life to him. But she couldn't give up on him. She was all he had, and she knew that too well.

Exactly two years ago, a devastating event occurred when Carlton was driving her home on Christmas night. She'd gone out to dinner with him and Marlowe and she'd had the best day she could remember. Then a drunk driver came careening across the icy streets and into the car, and then her world shattered. Marlowe left the world as an angel, Juliet herself had been paralyzed from the shoulders down, and Carlton was sent plunging into an impenetrable coma. Since then, she'd been confined to this wheelchair and been forced to live her life with a debilitating handicap. Through physical therapy, she'd regained movement in most of her upper body but still couldn't walk. Shawn had left her after about a month, obviously trying to be faithful and loyal but not wanting to have to deal with her handicap and jealous of her apparent obsession with Carlton. She'd picked up a job as an accountant where she could work from home, or from the hospital cafeteria, or at Carlton's side. There had been so many times when she just wanted to throw the towel in, die even. But it wasn't like she had nothing left to live for- she had Carlton. And Carlton needed her.

It was hopeless, the doctors had been telling her. Just give up. Pull the plug. But Juliet, as Carlton's medical proxy and fierce defender, had refused. She would never pull the plug on him. Even if she never woke up, even if he died while in the coma, she would not allow that death to be at her own hands. She could never live with that.

She kissed his forehead and he murmured something unintelligible. Her heart raced, but she didn't bother to get the nurses. This had happened many times before, and it meant nothing. It was just a subconscious reaction and it didn't mean he was any closer to consciousness than he ever had been before.

She'd kept a notebook of his murmurings, too. She heard Marlowe's name, her own, and also mentions of guns and other various allusions to their former lives. It was this sort of things that made her smile and also made her want to break down in tears at the same time.

Then an idea crawled into her head. It was Christmas, wasn't it? This was risky, she knew full well, but she couldn't help herself. She wheeled her chair over to the edge of the bed and put her hands on the edge. She braced herself and slowly lifted herself up onto the bed. She rolled as close to him as she could, not under the covers but still close next to him. And it comforted her, to feel him so close beside her. It wasn't an inappropriate gesture, not even a fully romantic one. It just meant I want you back.

She rested her head on his shoulder and when she closed her eyes she could almost pretend that he was only sleeping. That everything was normal and they had each other.

In an odd, twisted way, though, they did have each other, didn't they? She lost Shawn and he lost Marlowe, though he probably wasn't aware of it. In a way, she did have him, just as she had always wanted. In a way, she had everything she'd ever wanted. You can't have it all.

But if she could choose, she would rather not have him. She would rather be stuck with Shawn and have him lovestruck with Marlowe. If only she still had his friendship, his partnership, his support. She felt warm tears rolling down her cheeks and down onto him. She would rather not be able to have him than have this listless days where she was just trying to get by and watching him, blank and braindead.

"Carlton, you can have Marlowe," she whispered in a delicate sob. "You can have your life, just come back to me, okay?"  
He twitched slightly and then murmured something. "Juliet."

"I'm here," she said quietly, and felt her shoulders shaking.

"Love- you." The words were barely audible, but they were there. Somewhere, in his dream world, Carlton was saying he loved her.

"I love you too, baby," she whispered, and lapsed into a fitful sleep beside him, her last thoughts being, _Strange how we never appreciate what we have until it's gone._


End file.
